Remnants
by TheEleventhWheatley
Summary: Aside from the TARDIS and himself, the Doctor believes there is no evidence to suggest the Time Lords ever existed after the Time War. But when he and Clara come across what appears to be the remnants of a Time Lord spacecraft, his belief in his theory understandably wavers. And they may not be alone…
1. Vortex Turbulence

The TARDIS shakes and quakes violently, and I'm thrown from my position at the console. The world spins and I'm unexpectedly on my backside, sliding across the console floor.

Whatever caused this must be pretty insane – I've never seen the TARDIS in so much turbulence before. Actually, scratch that – I can probably list about four-hundred-and-eighty thousand, six-hundred-and-twenty-two times. Not that I've counted or anything.

Whoah! There we go again! Even more turbulence than the old girl's supposed to take. Turbulence like this back on Gallifrey probably would probably warrant a trip to the repair shop.

In fact, turbulence like this could only be caused by something on Gallifrey –

Oh.

"Clara! Get back from the console!" I yell. I'm almost certain that if this is what I think it is, then the console is about to become live, and the last thing I want is Clara becoming the opposite.

There's a pause.

"What else am I supposed to hang onto?"

"The rail!"

"Oh!"

_K-krak!_

There's an explosion of light and electricity, and then in seconds, all the light in the TARDIS dies. At once.

The turbulence doesn't stop. Now we're hurtling around in pitch-black darkness. Even the emergency lights are dead.

"Doctor! I'm scared!" she yells.

"Just hold on!" It's about the only thing I can say to help.

"Why are we going so fast?"

Strictly speaking, we're not going at all. I remind her of this.

She cries out. "Well, why are we shaking so muuuuuuuuuuch?!"

Another spin stretches her last syllables by an awful lot, and then I'm on the floor again.

"It's the temporal disturbance!" I yell, clawing onto the rail. "Something's pulling us back into the Time Vortex!"

"What is it?"

"I don't know – but I have a feeling I know what it is!" I'm pretty sure I know what it is.

Oh blimey, the last time I saw something like this was hundreds of years ago.

A Temporal Magnet.

They're contraptions created by the Time Lords to retrieve time vehicles that they have no control over. They were invented round about my second incarnation, and I have a feeling one's being used now. But that would be impossible…wouldn't it?

There are no Time Lords anymore.

Well, apart from meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…

And then we shake so much the TARDIS flips upside down and then the right way up again in less than a second.

And I'm out cold.

_Vworp Vwoorp_

_Vworp Vwoorp_

_Vworp Vwoorp_

Ouch.

Ow, my head. It hurts. In fact, it's hurting repeatedly. Every few seconds it gets poked.

Oh.

"Clara!"

"Sorry," she says, looking fantastically sheepish, "I didn't know how else to wake you up."

"It's fine," I mutter under my breath, jumping to my feet. "Right then!"

I dash to the doors and throw them open.

We're in a storeroom.

At least, it looks like a storeroom. A bit like a storeroom.

I wave the Sonic at it, but there's no response. According to the readings, we are just sort of in the middle of the time vortex.

"Where are we?" Clara asks nervously.

"It looks like a storeroom." It's about the only thing I can say.

The storeroom's pretty big.

It's on two floors. Well, sort of two floors. There's a lower floor that occupies most of the room. On the other side of the room, where we are, there's a raised platform about seven metres wide. Stairs lead up to it.

All kinds of crazy contraptions surround the platform, and I have a feeling it's got something to do with the Temporal Magnet.

The TARDIS is slap-bang in the middle of the platform, surrounded by wires and switches.

I scramble off the edge of the platform, ignoring the stairs that Clara immediately takes.

There are boxes and crates everywhere – stacked on top of each other are some pretty interesting containers.

They're branded with some of the best names in science, Earth or otherwise: Epsilon Industries, Aperture Laboratories, Futuria Technologies…you name 'em, they've got 'em.

I peer into some of the crates, examining the crazy tech they've got there.

Crikey.

There's a lot of stuff from the 18th century to the 92nd – I've never seen so much stuff in one place. Actually, that's a lie. I have. You should see the Frenko Bazaar. There's about six trillion goodies and stuff you'd love to see – but that's sort of a story for another day.

Then there's a pause as I hear Clara inhale sharply.

There's a voice.

"**TARGET ACQUIRED.**"

Then there's a cry.

"Doctor!"


	2. Deathly Robot of Death

I round the corner to find Clara face to eye-camera-type-thing with a mysterious robot creature.

It's about seven feet tall, made of a shiny black material I'm sure I recognise from somewhere. It's roughly humanoid, but it has an extraordinarily long neck, and the head is a sort of horizontal cylinder, and on one of the circular faces a camera-type thing is mounted. The robot is, admittedly, rather familiar, and I'm sure I know the material from somewhere. It's glaring at Clara, and attached to its left arm is a menacing-looking photon cannon. The cannon whirrs and buzzes, powering up an impressive reactor no doubt –

"Doctor!"

Oh, right, yes. I pull her away from the robot, just as it fires its weapon. A hole is torn in the golden-bronze wall, splintering it away to reveal the howling maelstrom of the Time Vortex. Everything in the storeroom – including us and the robot – is pulled towards the hole.

A vacuum in space is bad enough, but a vacuum in space _and_ time scarcely bears thinking about. There is a screeching, hissing sound as the crates and containers are dragged towards it. I grab onto Clara and pull her out of the way as the robot hurtles past us and out into the Time Vortex.

We grab onto a sturdy-looking container, but the safety is short-lived as it is slowly pulled towards the gaping hole. Clara squeezes her eyes tight shut. I try to reach the other container.

My hand slips.

I'm tumbling and falling and flying all at the same time – something usually thought impossible in about 70% of the universe; then again, we're not technically in the universe.

I tumble towards the hole – and then it seals shut.

The bronze architecture pulls itself together and then I bounce off the wall and land, panting on the floor. I can't help but laugh, and seemingly neither can Clara as she scrambles down from the container.

I pause as her grin turns to a horrified gasp, looking at something behind me. I have an awful feeling I know what it is.

"**TARGET ACQUIRED.**"

"Oh, give us a break." I mutter, panting.

Seemingly the same temporal reconstruction field reassembled the wall also retrieved all the crates…

…and the robot.

"**TARGET ACQUIRED.**"

It seems that being snatched from the jaws of death at the hands of the time vortex did nothing to alter its mood.

Clara tugs at my arm. We slowly back away from the robot until it unexpectedly strikes me with a beam of light. I fall backwards – and it hurts a lot. There's a horrible stinging sensation rushing around my body, causing my hearts to pump a lot faster. The world spins again for the third time today, and then suddenly I'm on the floor, looking up at the robot looming over me.

"**PHYSIOLOGY IDENTIFIED.**"

At least it's not 'target acquired'.

"**TIME LORD.**"

"That's me." It's about the only thing I can say right now. At that, the robot simply turns and walks away. It disappears down a side corridor and it's gone before you can say 'Deathly-robot-of-death'.

Clara runs over to me and checks me over.

I offer a weak grin.

"What was that thing?" she asks.

"Some sort of security robot, I should think."

"But it knew you're a Time Lord!" she protests, and she honestly does have a point. "Did it check your hearts?"

"Millions of species have two hearts – not just the Time Lords. For a start, there's the Apalapucians, the Glarians, and generally an awful lot of species. How did it know I was a Time Lord? And, more importantly, why did it just leave me?"

"Are Time Lords welcome here?" Clara asks, echoing my thoughts.

"It would certainly seem so."

"What if it's a trap?" she inquires, looking around at the intricately designed walls. "What if they're trying to attract you here? Maybe that would explain the Temporal Attractor thing?"

I'm impressed. She's the one with all the theories today.

"Hang on a minute." I can only guess she's just thought of something. She continues. "It shot at me. That's what made the hole in the wall. Am I not permitted here?"

"Perhaps." She makes an excellent point. "Clara," I say, looking her in the eye, "You've just come up with the best theory I've heard all day."

She grins.

"Time Lords were almost universally renowned for their snootiness. On more than one occasion I have been forbidden to visit Gallifrey because I've got a non-Time Lord with me."

"It's almost like the Time Lords built that robot," Clara proposes.

"It's almost like the Time Lords built this place," I continue, gesturing at the walls –

Oh.

There's a symbol on the wall. A big, round symbol intricately decorated with lots of little circles. And it's a very familiar symbol. At least to me.

It's the Seal of Rassilon.


	3. A Spacecraft Graveyard

I'm still reeling from the shock.

The Seal of Rassilon. Wow.

Haven't seen that in a couple of centuries. What's it doing here? And why?

"Doctor? You alright?"

Clara taps me on the shoulder. I'm still sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring in awe at the Time Lord symbol on the wall.

"The Seal of Rassilon…" I can't help but mumble, "…wow."

"The what?"

"The Seal of Rassilon!" I exclaim, jumping to my feet. "Clara! That's the identification mark of Gallifrey! Well…the Time Lords, actually. I doubt the Sheboogans –"

She interrupts my train of thought with yet another question. Is she the one with the theories today or the questions?

"What, the circly thing?"

"Yes!" I rub my hands together, and then it clicks. That's where I've seen the robot before.

"Back on Gallifrey!" I grin. "The robot! It's the heavy-duty security model!"

Clara considers this. "So the Time Lords _did_ build that robot?"

"And the whole place! This is a Time Lord craft!" I'm overjoyed – what if there are other Time Lords? Here? In the Vortex?

"What if there are other Time Lords here?"

"Did I not just say that?"

"No, you didn't. At least, not out loud."

"Oh." Surprising, really. I'm sure I said it. "Ah well. Come along!"

"Where to?"

"I'm sure we'll work something out."

This corridor is dark and dingy. There's almost no light, save for the Sonic doing its torchy thing.

The station/craft thing we're on is very large. The corridors are small and winding – much too small for the ego of a Time Lord to fit.

Still, maybe they weren't Time Lords?

A part of me desperately hopes they were. Or perhaps _are_.

Clara points out a metallic, red-painted console set into the wall. The screen upon it contains a lot of Gallifreyan.

It's hard to read, even though I speak every form of Gallifreyan – it must be a very old form.

Hmm.

"What does it say?" Clara whispers.

"Why are you whispering?" I whisper in reply.

"Why are _you_?"

"Fair point." I say, out loud.

"So – what does it say?" she repeats.

Hmm. That could be hard. "Um…"

"You don't know, do you?"

"Well, I…um…"

"Admit it."

"Yes, but…"

"You don't know."

I sigh. "I don't know."

Hang on. There's a syllable there that I recognise. And there's a word I know.

"Uh…well. I think that says…turtle? No, not turtle. Timothy…nope. Thyme? Time!"

"Time? Is that all it says?"

"No, there's more – um, frog. Time frog? No, can't be right. Time frogress? Is that even a word?"

"Progress?" suggests Clara, and I'm pretty sure she's right.

"Time Progress…ion. Time Progression and…"

"Go on."

"O…b…s…er…vation!"

"Time Progression and Observation." Clara strings the words together.

"Hold on. There's another word."

"What does it say?"

"Time Progression and Observation…o…r…bit…cr…aft. Time Progression and Observation Orbit Craft!"

"So they watched time from here?"

I'm about to nod and agree when suddenly I remember something. The TPaOOC?

The TPaOOC!

"It was a spacecraft from the old days of Gallifrey," I explain rapidly, "The Time Lords built it to monitor space and time across the universe and pick out sections of spacetime and observe them in their detail and then set time around it in its normal progression and that's how it got the name but they stopped it because it was too unethical and they decided to abandon it in the Time Vortex and there probably won't be any Time Lords in it and –"

"Doctor! You're talking too fast!"

"No," I correct her, "_You're_ listening too slow."

She rolls her eyes, and then repeats what she can from the mess of a sentence I just rattled off.

"So…it was a spaceship the Time Lords used to examine little sections of space and time..."

"Yes…"

"And they shut it down because they said it was unethical?"

"Exactly."

"If only every species in the universe was as considerate as the Time Lords."

"I'd hardly call 'em considerate. I mean, they did kill me once. And then they nearly blew up the Earth during the whole Skagra incident."

"Oh."

I scan the console for further information. At least I found out what happened to the TPaOOC.

"What do we do now?"

I think about that. She makes a valid point. "I suggest we go looking for any Time Lords who just might be about."

"But I thought you said –"

"Maybe I did. I have a hard time keeping track of what I say."

"Look!" Clara points out the wrecks of many different spacecraft, all arranged in a precise order of time fields, set out in a huge, wide room.

I pause. One of those spaceships seems remarkably familiar.

"Doctor…"

"It's kind of funny. I think the Time Vortex is having some kind of adverse effect on my memory. You know, that's never happened before."

"Doctor…?"

"Maybe it was the Temporal Magnet?"

"Doctor!"

I whip round. "Yes? What?"

She points at the familiar wreck. My eyes track over the ruins, and they settle upon three shapes, frozen in a struggle to escape the crash.

"There's people in that spaceship!"


End file.
